Asking for It?
by Inks Inc
Summary: Everyone has a right to a private life. But...all too soon, Abby wishes she hadn't made the decision to keep hers quite so private. Tag to Bloodbath. Gibbs/Abby. Father/Daughter. WARNING: Spanking/Corporal Punishment.


Straightening up and wiping his brow, Gibbs frowned unhappily at his sanding progress. The hull of his newest creation simply wasn't yielding to his will and at eight pm, he was beyond frustrated with it. Taking another swig off strong coffee, he sighed and attacked the grain once more. A rustle at the top of the staircase a few moments later alerted him, and he quickly deduced it wasn't either Tony or Tim. Another twinge of his ears let him know it wasn't Ziva, but Abby.

Straightening up, he glanced up the stairs to see his favourite lab-rat hovering uncertainly at the top of the staircase. She looked paler than usual and lacked her usual bounce to a conspicuous degree. "Abbs?" he questioned softly, sending her an enquiring look. "You ok?"

She gnawed at her lip for a moment, before plodding down the rest of the stairs slowly. He watched silently as she crossed the remaining distance between them, whilst sitting on the edge of a nearby stool. He remained silent as she landed right in front of him, opening her mouth, closing her mouth, repeating the motion on a loop.

His anxieties were instantly awakened.

"Hey," he murmured, reaching out and grasping her wrists gently as she fidgeted in front of him, "What is it? What's the matter?" Instead of answering him, she flinched somewhat in his loose hold, obviously wrestling furiously with herself. She actually turned to leave, before turning back again, causing Gibbs' already high levels of worry to sky rocket.

"Abby….what is it? Tell me. Has something happened?"

She struggled to make eye contact with him, before sighing and breaking free of his loose grasp. He watched as she walked over to his boat and rubbed a hand over the exposed wooden beams, deep in thought. He held his tongue as she bit her lip and mumbled under her breath. He continued to hold his tongue as she shot fleeting glances between him and the open door that spilled light into the top of the staircase.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and a shadow of her usual excited tones.

"I feel bad."

Gibbs' worry was now intermingled with a more than healthy dash of confusion.

"You feel bad, as in sick? Are you ill? Abby…c'mon, talk to me. What do you mean you feel bad?"

She shook her head, agitation and frustration splashed across her face. Gibbs watched in worry as she took a deep breath and leant her head against the frame of the boat in front of her. Another fleeting look was thrown between the door and the worried looking Gibbs, before she straightened up and looked at him fully in the face.

"I feel bad… about Michael."

She stuttered over her own breath before continuing.

"I…should have told you. I know you're mad that I didn't, even though you're acting like you're not because you don't want to upset me. I feel bad because I wanted to tell you, but I was too embarrassed. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you or the others to think I was a moron for being with him in the first place. I wanted to tell you…and then it was too late, and you looked at me like you did when you found out, and said nothing like you did…and….I just…."

She trailed off and ran a hand through her mussed up hair in frustration.

"Feel bad."

Gibbs stared silently. He was torn between being taken aback and a semi conscious state of knowing that this conversation was always bound to happen. He took in the frame of his favourite, shuffling in misery, biting her lip in agitation and darting her gaze here, there and everywhere but him. The silence was heavy, but he took his time in finding his words, such was his distaste for words.

He couldn't deny it. He was mad, and he was disappointed. He was frustrated. He was confused. He was all of these things as a result of his girl not coming to him when she needed him. For not allowing him to help her when she so desperately needed help. But…she was right, he had put all these things to the side. She needed to be picked back up after her fall, and that was his job and a job he took seriously. So he had pushed all those things to the side, and focussed on her. But now, here she was, dragging those things out from the side and into directly the fore front of things.

His need to make everything better spilled out of his mouth before he could fully think it through.

"Don't worry about that now, Abby," he muttered, "What's done is done, and the main thing is that lunatic can never get anywhere near you again, and that you're safe. Everything else…is just water under the bridge." He stood, and walked towards her and the boat. "Speaking of water, you wanna stay and give me a hand with some of this? It's driving me crazy."

Looking at him in the eye, Abby shook her head vigorously.

"Don't give me that Gibbs. This is me you're talking to, me. I know you, I know your signs. I know what that look you gave me in autopsy meant, and I know you still feel the same. I know you're pissed and hurt, and I know you're only putting a face on that so I won't feel bad. But…that ship has _sailed_ Gibbs, _I already feel bad."_

Her body shook with frustration as she let out a mammoth sigh.

"I feel….I feel like I do when I screw up on a case, or when I do something you tell me not to and you're super mad. Like…that time when I spent half the lab budget on a dog kennels for strays, or that time I passed out drunk in Arizona when I was meant to be preparing end of year reviews….or that time when I-"

Gibbs silenced her with a gentle thumb over her lips.

"Those times were different, Abbs," he contradicted quietly, "Those times, were you breaking the rules of the agency. There are no…rules, when it comes to you and I, outside of work. What you choose to tell or not tell me, that's your call. It's not the same thing as those times, so…stop feeling how you're feeling, and help me with this boat, ok?"

Again, she shook her head…but with more misery than agitation.

"It still feels the same, Gibbs," she mumbled slowly, "It still feels the same. I still have that sick feeling in my gut. Can you honestly look me in the eye right now and tell me you that you weren't, or aren't mad that I didn't come to you?"

There was a pressing silence.

He couldn't lie.

He wouldn't lie.

"It's complicated Abbs," he practically whispered, "It's complicated."

She looked at him steadily. "So that's a yes then?" she affirmed, "Not that I didn't know it was a yes, but it is a yes, yes?"

Gibbs sighed and leant against the boat, folding his arms across his chest. "What do you want from me here, Abby? What do you want me to say? Yes, ok? Yes. I was pissed and I was mad that you didn't come to me when you needed me, when you put yourself in harm's way. I was murderously mad when you were attacked by that raving lunatic, where, if you _had_ told me, he wouldn't have been in a position to attack anyone, ever."

He sighed loudly.

"But…I don't get that right, I don't get to stay mad. You didn't break any rules, you didn't violate any codes. You kept your personal life, personal, and as much as I don't like what the consequences of that were, that is your right. I won't take that from you, I won't try and do that. So…like I said, it's complicated. Best we just leave it at that, ok?"

It was her turn to sigh loudly.

"Don't you see that I can't, Gibbs? I can't leave it at that. I feel…I feel _sick_ in my stomach. I feel guilty, all the time. It's been two weeks, and every time you walk into my lab or call down for a result I feel that guilt like its new."

She stepped forwards and crossed into his direct line of sight.

"I can't do it anymore."

He stared at her steadily.

"What do you expect me to do about it Abby? Forgive you? You know I already have, it goes without saying. Would I have preferred you to have come to me? You bet your ass I would. Would I prefer you come to me in the future? Again, you can bet your ass I would. But it's your call, Abby, not mine. And this…I guess, is one of those things that as much as I'd like to, I can't make you feel any better about. Just give it time. Now…how about helping me with this damned boat?"

She stared at him for what seemed like the longest moment as he hoped against hope she would let it go.

"You can…make me feel better, I mean…it's why….uhm, it's why I came over here…tonight."

Gibbs' confusion mounted once more.

"How?" he asked bemusedly. "Abbs, c'mon, you know I'm not good with all this…feelings, business, so I don't see _how_ I can make you feel better. Other than offering you some bourbon, but you know how I feel about you, and a presumably empty stomach and hard liquor so…I don't know what you expect from me here kid."

A sudden, and deeply crimson blush splashed over her cheeks as she stared at him uncertainly.

"You…I mean…generally….uhm….well, usually….you…."

Gibbs stared in mounting bewilderment.

"Abby…what the hell are you talking about?"

She magically managed to both flush and pale at the same time.

"I…always feel better, well not physically…but I mean, you know, mentally…after you uhh…I mean, well…what I mean is…"

Gibbs' eyes were beginning to strain with the headache that was forming behind them.

"Abby," he sighed slowly, reaching out and placing a hand on each of her shoulders, squeezing them gently. "I have no idea what you are trying to say. Will you just spit it out already?"

She nodded jerkily, before dragging in a deep breath.

"I need you to…uhm, punish me….like usual."

Gibbs' hands fell of her slim shoulders in surprise as his mouth fell open in equal shock. He stared at her silently for what felt like an eternity to the horribly embarrassed young woman. The minute the words were out of her mouth she knew she could never take them back. They had been bursting to escape her since that conversation in autopsy, and all she could do now, was wait.

Gibbs' mind was reeling. Whatever he had expected Abby to say, it wasn't that. Sure, he was no stranger to using his unorthodox methods with any of his team. But those methods were generally reserved for their on the job screw ups, or the rare off the job booze-fest that landed one of them in danger. This…this was something different altogether, and before he could even think it through, he found himself shaking his head.

"Abbs...what the hell are you talking about?" he whispered faintly, "I can't…it's not like that…it's not like the usual times." He shook his head once more, and lifted her dropped chin up to meet his gaze. "I can't force you to tell me things about your personal life that you don't want to. You not telling me something like, and you not telling me about a screwed up report are two very, very different things. You see that, right?"

She looked mournful in his light grasp as she struggled to find the words, torn between staying and fleeing, dropping and pressing.

"It doesn't feel different," she mumbled, "It's the same guilt, only…only worse."

She shuffled in front of him.

"I wouldn't have come here if I thought I could get over this on my own…Gibbs, I can't deal with it. I've not been sleeping, I've not been eating normally. I'm not used to things…to things _festering_ between us. I'm used to them being resolved the minute they happen. And don't tell me things haven't been different between us these past two weeks, cos' I know you know they are. And…I hate it." Her face crumpled as he kept a gentle thumb under her chin. "I _hate_ it…."

She pulled her face out of his supporting grasp and dropped her head to the floor.

Gibbs was hard pressed to remember a time he'd seen her quite as miserable.

And he was at a loss for words.

She was right. Things had been different between them. He was still angry, he was still fuming about the danger his precious scientist had been placed in because of a stupid decision. It hadn't been resolved in the normal way, because it hadn't been a normal situation. With it not being job related, the thoughts of dealing with the matter in his unusual way had never even crossed Gibbs' mind, but…he could instantly tell she'd put a lot of thought into it.

He needed…to think.

He needed a minute.

"Abby," he suddenly heard himself saying, "Go upstairs and wait in the living room. Get yourself a drink or something. I'll be up in a few minutes." He pointed towards the stair case when she merely looked at him in confusion, and gave her a small nudge. "Go," he repeated, "I need some time…to think about this. You've obviously been thinking about it for a while, but this is the first I'm hearing of it. So go, upstairs, and wait."

She stared at him for another moment, still red with embarrassment, before turning on her heel and hightailing it out of the basement and up the stairs. As the last of her hair whipped out of view, Gibbs leaned back against his boat frame and let out a mammoth sigh. This was not…how he had planned his evening. He didn't know what to do. For someone so decisive, it was an unsettling feeling. Whenever he had cause to take any of his four in hand, he never had such strong doubts as to whether or not he was doing the right thing. The situation was usually clear as day.

This however, was from that.

This…he was struggling with.

What right did he have to punish Abby for not confiding in him? He was her boss…not her father….but it was so much more complicated than that. He had no right to demand such information from her. He told himself that, but, the situation that had been born out of her failure to come to him loomed large. The successive attempts on her life, the perilous situation after perilous situation screamed into his brain. All things that could have been prevented, all things that _he_ could have prevented. Abby…was no fool, far from it. But she always saw the very best in people, never wanted to see the worst.

Which was great, but in this world…it made him shudder with fear as to where it could lead her.

He'd seen just exactly where it could lead her two weeks ago.

And he couldn't bear the thoughts of seeing it again.

He continued to wrestle with himself.

She had come to him, not he to her. She was clearly consumed with guilt, consumed by a lack of closure. As much as he hated disciplining any of his team, when it was done, it provided a resounding note of finality on the incident in question. It was put in the past, never to be spoken of again. And he knew that was a large part of why Abby was so miserable. She felt she hadn't atoned for what she considered to be her wrong doing, and there could therefore be no closure. None that she was familiar with anyway.

He sighed once more.

He was utterly conflicted.

He was both proud of, and horrified by Abby's request. It had taken serious nerve of steel for her to come to him like she did, and he knew it. He knew she would have talked herself in and out of it a hundred different times and a hundred different ways before she had landed in his basement. He knew…no matter how emotionally moronic people considered him to be, that if he sent her away tonight, it would devastate her.

He sighed and ran an aggravated hand through his hair.

All of a sudden, he snapped to a decision. He wasn't one for over thinking.

He turned on his heel and made his way upstairs, a mere thirty minutes or so after Abby had taken her own leave. Heading up the creaking stairs, he fought to remain outwardly calm. He was in his own turmoil on the inside, but she needed him to be the rock he always was for her. Perhaps now more than ever. Rounding into his living room, his heart was saddened at the sight of his Abbs curled up in a miserable little ball on his sofa.

Crossing the room in four strides, he sat down beside her. Peeping out at him sideways, she radiated uncertainty. Gibbs didn't waste any time. Reaching out, he gently peeled her up from her furled up stance and drew her into his arms. She melted against his torso, letting out a small sniffle as she did so. He pressed his head into her hair and reaffirmed his decision.

"Ok, Abbs…ok…."

She pulled out from underneath him, and looked at him steadily. "Ok?" she repeated uncertainly, wiping a hand over eyes that had obviously shed tears during their separation, "What does that mean?"

Gibbs chewed his lip for a moment, knowing that this was his very last opportunity to venture down a completely different path altogether. He was sorely tempted to go down that road, but one look into the large eyes staring up at him, and he knew he couldn't. They were darkened with a sadness he knew ran deep, a sadness that was immune to words.

He took in a deep breath.

"It means, I want you to ask me what you came here to ask me tonight…again."

She stared at him silently for a moment, trembling somewhat in his arms. She knew he wasn't trying to humiliate her. She knew him in a way that very few, if any, did. She knew he was giving her an out. Giving her a last chance to pretend she'd just come over to crash and chill. She knew he was forcing her to make peace with her own decision, and she knew she already had.

She needed to do this.

She didn't want to.

She _really_ didn't want to.

But…she had to.

"I came here to ask you…," the blood surged to her face once more, but she fought, and to his pride, managed to maintain eye contact. "I came here to ask you to punish me, Gibbs," she said bravely, the slightest of tremors in her voice. "I should have come to you. I knew that when I kept it from you, and it feels like I've been lying to you. All those times when he was stalking me, and I was stressed out…and you kept asking me what was wrong…I should have told you then."

She sucked in some air.

"I don't care if it's not work related, Gibbs, it feels the same. The guilt is the same…"

There was silence as the words were digested, and the fervour behind them gauged.

"Alright, Abbs," Gibbs eventually murmured, "I understand…"

He closed his eyes briefly.

"But I need _you_ to understand something," he continued gently, "If I punish you for this, it's different. This is not _Special Agent Gibbs_ disciplining _Forensics Scientist, Abby Sciuto_. This is me, Abbs, making sure that you never make such a stupid decision concerning your safety again. This is personal kid, and I need you to get that. This is between you and me as… _you and me,_ not as boss and team member. Do…you understand that?"

She looked at him silently, a sheen of unshed tears causing her eyes to seemingly sparkle with comprehension.

"Yes Gibbs."

He nodded almost imperceptibly, and swallowed with difficulty. He was battling with a cacophony of bellowing emotions. But one came out on top. _Pride_. As he looked down at Abby who was looking back at him with an expression of complete trust, pride filled him. The guts it took, the self awareness it took to bring her were clear.

The time for words were over, and he knew it.

With an ease born of experience, he moved quickly and efficiently. Within a moment, he had removed his arm from Abby's shoulders, and used it to deftly reposition her torso. Within another second, he had gently placed her across his knee, scooting back on the sofa to support her tall frame. She didn't fight him. Usually, this situation would bring about promises, negotiations and pleading. With any of the four, but…he knew it wouldn't be the case this time.

Because they both knew it was different.

Snaking an arm around her waist, he drew in another deep breath. The anxiousness he expected to feel, and braced for, didn't come. He suddenly felt clear headed and level. There was an issue that needed to be resolved, a lesson that needed to be taught and air that needed to be cleared.

The first swat therefore fell without any warning.

As did the second.

As did the third.

With the fourth falling, the spanking was well underway. Using the image of the suicide note falsely written in Abby's hand to keep his focus, Gibbs didn't hold back. He held his eldest girl closely to him as he peppered her backside with firm and unyielding strokes. She whimpered slightly, and he knew it didn't really have that much to do with the spanking. She'd had firmer ones. It was to do with the suppressed guilt that wasn't long from bursting out of her.

He didn't speak as he continued to blister her rear end, knowing it to be redundant. The room was therefore silent save for the brisk swats as they fell, on the odd yelp and whimper they elicited. Gibbs kept the pace brisk for a minute or so, before pausing for just a moment. Patting her pack gently, he murmured a quiet "up." For a moment she remained absolutely still, before eventually pushing herself up obediently.

Gesturing to the black jeans that she wore under her knee length t-shit, he suppressed a miserable sigh. "Jeans and pants down, and back over Abby," he instructed firmly, before looking away to give her the privacy to do just that. Given the length of her t-shirt, his uncharacteristic tact was unnecessary, but he felt the need regardless. Looking back only when she had draped herself back over his knee, he quickly pulled the t-shirt back, and repositioned his arm around her waist. Within another second, the spanking resumed over an already pink backside.

He gritted his teeth as the yelps became instantly louder and frequent, he summoned up the suicide note once more. It was the only thing that kept him going as Abby began crying over his knee, much earlier than she usually would. The swats were firm and unrelenting, but there'd been harder ones. Gibbs was careful not to over or under do it. He wanted Abby to let go of her guilt, nothing more, nothing less.

As he tipped his knee upwards to apply another coat of red to an already well chastised pair of sit spots, the dam broke. It was incomprehensible to him how much guilt could be collected in a mere fortnight. But…Abby always did feel things more keenly than the rest of them. It made sense that that would include guilt. As the crying turned sobbing reached crescendo pitch, Gibbs' resolve was fading fast. He forced the note, the attack on the lab, the infiltration of McGee's apartment into the very forefront of his mind. All stark and harrowing examples of how close he had come to losing the girl across his knee because of a series of stupid decisions that prevented her from coming to him.

It was the only thing that kept him going.

But then…after one more flurry of swats on a now starkly crimson backside, he mercifully didn't need to keep going anymore. She went limp across his knee, and her sobbing rapidly became weeping. Her squirming ceased, and she lay flatly and near silently.

He knew instantly she'd let it go, and his hand paused mid air.

They were done.

He instantly reached out and carded a gentle hand through her hair, murmuring quietly to her all the while. She didn't stir, and he didn't try and force her to. She would move when she was ready, he knew that, and he would wait for as long as it took. The room was silent save for her quietening series of sniffling and snuffling, and his low voice. The words he spoke, it didn't seem like she heard, but she would remember them for years and years to come.

More time passed, and Gibbs continued to rub his eldest girl's hair gently, until she suddenly gave one last, loud sniff and made to right herself. Instantly using the opportunity to flee to the kitchen in order to give her some privacy, Gibbs grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and took a moment to breathe. That…was one of the most difficult things he'd ever done, and yet he was no longer unclear about it.

It had been the right thing to do.

Giving her another moment to herself, he entered the living room once more, a few minutes later and found her sat on three cushions on the sofa. Her eyes were red rimmed, her air was mussed but the tangible aura of misery that had hung about her, was gone. Her eyes were bloodshot from tears, but they didn't hold a barrage of sadness.

She would be ok.

Settling himself down beside her, Gibbs once again wrapped her in his arms. The odd and much hated barrier that had sprung up between them over the last two weeks was utterly decimated. Things…however oddly achieved, were back to normal and Gibbs heaved a mammoth sigh of relief. Pressing a kiss onto the top of her dark head, he squeezed her shoulders gently.

"Proud of you, kid. It took guts, what you did tonight."

She swivelled her head up at him, swallowing a noisy glug of water.

She too felt the normality of their relationship returning in a swooping gallop, and rested contentedly against his chest. They sat in silence for a moment, each lost to their own thoughts. Until Abby's rather throaty voice broke the sleepy stillness.

"Gibbs?"

Startled out of his reverie, he looked down slowly and raised a brow.

"Hmm?"

She tilted her head back to address him fully, her beseeching eyes being put to their fullest effect.

"So…there's this guy…he's wonderful, you'd love him. He's a part time taxidermist and a part time embalmer and-"

His answering groan of horror cut her off and she grinned mischievously as she settled in against his chest with a slight and watery chuckle.

"Just kidding."

…..

A/N: Always wanted to do a one-shot about:

A) One of the team coming to Gibbs and literally asking for an ass whooping

B) An expansion of the whole Bloodbath episode

Anyhow, hope you enjoyed. Thoughts?

…


End file.
